


Dogs Will Have Their Day

by miraworos



Series: Mira's Ineffable Husbands Ficlets [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22982815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraworos/pseuds/miraworos
Summary: “Crowley, what did you do?”“I got you an anniversary present. Well, two anniversary presents, technically.”Crowley attempted his most persuasive, aren’t-I-a-good-demon-husband smile. But Aziraphale wasn’t having it.“Our anniversary was four months ago,” he said, folding his arms. “I’d suggest you try some other argument, dear.”~~~~~Crowley gets a present for Aziraphale, only not really.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Mira's Ineffable Husbands Ficlets [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621357
Comments: 12
Kudos: 128
Collections: Celestial Harmonies Issue 1





	Dogs Will Have Their Day

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was one of two submissions to [Celestial Harmonies](https://celestialharmonies.webnode.com/) inaugural fanzine. If you enjoy it, go check out the rest of the zine, which is full of awesome fics and art!
> 
> As always, thanks ever so to my lovely beta [Z A Dusk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snakeandmoon/pseuds/Z%20A%20Dusk). <3333

“Crowley, what did you do?”

“I got you an anniversary present. Well, two anniversary presents, technically.”

Crowley attempted his most persuasive, aren’t-I-a-good-demon-husband smile. But Aziraphale wasn’t having it.

“Our anniversary was four months ago,” he said, folding his arms. “I’d suggest you try some other argument, dear.”

But before Crowley could change tack, one of the two hellhound puppies he’d brought up from his last visit to Hell took it upon himself to rip the mailbox out of the ground and toss it across the yard. Then both hellpuppies bounded after it, vicious fangs rending everything they passed to shreds while leaving a trail of sulfuric saliva in their wake.

"My begonias!" Crowley shouted in dismay, giving chase immediately. "Get back here, you bloody hellions, and behave yourselves, for somebody's sake!"

"We can't possibly keep them, Crowley," Aziraphale called after him. "The damage to my books alone would be catastrophic. Not to mention the rest of the neighborhood."

Having corralled the hellpups into a corner of the garden, he distracted them with a giant leg of miracled mutton and backed toward Aziraphale again, maintaining line of sight with the dreadful monsters.

"Adam has a hellhound, and Tadfield is still standing."

"Adam had the powers of the Antichrist to form the hellhound into whatever shape he desired."

"We don't need special powers," Crowley argued. "Hellhounds are designed to fulfill the will of their masters."

"And who exactly is their master?" Aziraphale demanded. "Really, Crowley, I'm surprised at you. You don't even truly like your plants. What makes you think you'll like taking care of two bloody great dogs? With stalactites for teeth and breath that smells like rotting flesh, no less?"

Aziraphale was at a loss to understand how Crowley had even made it all the way back to their cottage with the beasts in the first place. There was no way in Hell he'd let them into his beloved Bentley.

"I don't know, angel. Perhaps it was a bit rash."

"A bit rash?" Aziraphale repeated incredulously. "Darling, deciding to ditch one's reservation at Le Bouchon last minute is a bit rash. There is no word for  _ this _ ." 

He gestured toward the hellpups, who had finished the mutton leg and were digging cavernous holes beneath the stone wall surrounding their garden. 

"I just..." Crowley started, then stopped, recalibrated. "Hastur said they were slated to be destroyed, and he looked so bloody tickled at the idea. It really was all to thwart Hastur, I swear. And...you know...it was just so damp and greasy in their cell..."

Aziraphale bit his lip, tempted to call Crowley a sentimental old fool of a serpent. But something stopped him. Partly, it was the hellpups themselves, gamboling in the grass and tussling with each other, clearly as overjoyed with life as younglings of any other species would be. Partly, it was the look on Crowley's face as he watched them playing, wistful and perhaps a little heart-stricken, not that he would ever admit it, of course.

The angel sighed heavily, giving up the battle for lost. He was going to have to invest in miracle-reinforced, glassed-in bookcases. And hand sanitizer. So much hand sanitizer.

He placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled piercingly, calling the hellpups to attention. If he was going to cave to Crowley on this, then he was for damned sure going to be the master. The hellpups immediately stopped their game and looked at him expectantly.

"Gracie! Prince! Come!"

Instantly, both hellhounds shrunk to the size and shape and general fluffiness of two adorable Pomeranian puppies, one an all-over creamy white with a single black paw, and the other black and tan with white spots on either side of his nose.

The hellpups trotted up to Aziraphale, standing on their hind legs and twirling with excitement, eyes glowing red for the briefest of moments. Aziraphale bent down and picked them up, one in each arm. 

Handing the cream-colored pup to Crowley, he said, "I hope you realize that you have just volunteered for permanent dog-excrement eradication detail."

And with a grin larger than it had any right to be, Crowley answered, "Whatever you say, angel."


End file.
